


A Distraction

by Opal_Haze



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Light Smut, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-20
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-02 04:41:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1052646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opal_Haze/pseuds/Opal_Haze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock can't find what he needs in the mind palace and goes looking for something-or someone-to take his mind off of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Here’s a short look at the lovely couple of Baker Street…with some light smut. This is the first time I've never written anything like this, or about my favorite couple. I ask that you please be honest but kind. :)
> 
> This is the first part of two!

     Strolling down the alabaster pillar lined corridor, Sherlock turned into a dimly lit room filled with museum-like cased shelves. As he strode past, individual compartments lit up allowing him to view the details of their contents. Coming up upon the final row, he turned to peer inside the newly illuminated case.

    A loud noise far away broke his intensity for a moment; he returned his gaze to the compartment. The noise repeated, this time louder. A hand landed roughly on his shoulder.

    “Sherlock! Whose blood is in the fridge?” The dark quiet chamber disintegrated around him as he was rather unpleasantly pulled into another reality. It seemed John was in one of his moods.

     “No one of consequence,” Sherlock answered dully. “It wasn’t violently obtained. You shouldn’t concern yourself.” He attempted to plunge himself back into his thoughtful reverie but was caught by the audible annoyance in John’s hushed mumbling about sanitary living conditions. In any case, he had scoured the palace countless times for a lead without attainment; perhaps a break was warranted. He reopened his eyes for the first time in what must have been hours, it was dark out now. A distraction, to allow his subconscious to do mental legwork, was what he needed.

    His eyes skimmed the flat and settled on John’s body, now fully extended as he stretched to put away groceries in the high cabinets. The silhouette of the heavy jumper, revealing a strip of skin before the well-worn jeans on his hips, was oddly flattering to his soldiering physique. John readjusted his sweater so it covered his stomach again; Sherlock frowned. He watched John rearrange the food in the fridge to be as far from Sherlock’s conventionally non-edible items as possible. Leaning back into the armchair Sherlock sighed and rubbed his thighs impatiently.

    “Had any thoughts about the case then?” John inquired, his voice softer, audibly less irritated than before.

    “Not yet,” Sherlock allowed. “I need some cognitive autopilot.”

    “Maybe some air would help, how long have you been sitting there?”

    “No. It’s all in here,” Sherlock dodged, standing and gesturing to his head. “The psychological concept of insight is rooted in the idea that overthinking prevents new innovation. I need to give my mind time to do a subconscious sweep.”

    “Like a Roomba?” John joked, grinning.

    “A what?”

    “Vacuum that…never mind. So a break?”

    Sherlock didn’t answer; he turned, walked past the violin, and parked himself on the couch, pulling his legs into his chest. John had seen this behavior before and rolled his eyes before following the detective to the couch and turning on the TV. He flipped channels until he reached a talk show he knew Sherlock was somewhat fond of, even if he would never admit it. John saw Sherlock smirk, hidden behind his knees, and settled himself back into the soft couch.

    Before too long John felt the intense stare of Sherlock on him. So it was one of _those_ breaks. John was surprised at how much he enjoyed the intermittent liaisons with his flat mate-although he wasn’t sure he could just call him that now- that had occurred in the last few months. Moreover, he was astounded they didn’t bring about any identity confusion. The somewhat bizarre first time they had hooked up, and every occasion since, seemed to come perfectly natural to John. And, with some practice, the interactions became less awkward and more natural for Sherlock as well, though they rarely spoke of them. They were regarded as though they were separate fleeting incidents, spoken of in hushed tones in the dark night and were as if they had never happened in the bright of morning. John knew, at least for him, the incidents were not without consequence. He found himself, though he supposed he had been for some time, quite smitten with Sherlock Holmes. He didn’t know how far the affection went for Sherlock; it was a bit scary to think about how Sherlock might feel about him. But he didn’t have much time to consider the possible ramifications of this particular rendezvous before he felt the familiar sensation of smooth lips and warm eager breath on his neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this wasn't supposed to be more than 2 parts but...I got carried away. Sorry this bit took a little longer than I intended to be put up, I got busy. :/
> 
> There shall (at least) be a part 3, but bear with me exams start this week.

Trailing kisses down the edge and evening scruff of John’s jawline, Sherlock found himself markedly more impatient than he usually was in this -now cataloged and frequently revisited-situation. Though he was, at first, rather embarrassingly inexperienced, he had striven to make up for it in attention and experimentation. He had learned through trial and error the different areas of contact and pressures that drew low groans from deep within John’s chest, where to kiss him to feel his abdominal muscles tense and relax, how to trail his fingers along his thigh to make him arch and moan Sherlock’s name. Sherlock had expected to merely gain sexual release and potentially useful data in his meetings with John, but he discovered himself enjoying more than the physical satisfaction. He relished in giving John pleasure, to be the one to cause such carnal reactions and subsequent contentment. He had never desired anyone as much as he wanted John, not only in a visceral sense but on a deeper level he hadn't really explored. The continued string of escapades had only escalated things. He found himself wanting John more and more frequently. John didn't seem to mind but perhaps John was more blasé about these sort of things. After all, John had dated his fair share of women, and seemed open to his own sexual exploration, considering he now had for several months had a gay lover. Sherlock pushed the uncertain thoughts into the corners of his mind, allowing the rare clarity that came from the warmth and exhilaration of John’s body so near to his. John’s mouth found its way to Sherlock’s and John wasted no time in allowing Sherlock’s tongue to explore the sweet inner caverns of his dentistry. Sherlock smiled, not breaking the kiss, noting that John was as eager as he was, which only added to the volume of blood rushing to his cock.

John’s arms slid up Sherlock’s torso and shoulders until they rested around his neck. He used the leverage to pull himself closer and fall into Sherlock. Sherlock obliged and leaned back, pulling John on top of him and pushing his thighs open so John straddled him. John felt Sherlock’s hard cock beneath him. He broke the kiss and sat back up. He looked down at Sherlock hungrily before his fingers scrambled down to the buttons on the eggplant shirt greedily covering Sherlock’s chest. The shirt opened to reveal a pale bare chest which was quickly covered by John’s hands, tracing the outline of ribs and muscles and causing soft whimpers to escape from Sherlock. Encouraged, John leaned down to kiss and nip at the alabaster skin that was beginning to flush with color. He nibbled on Sherlock’s left nipple and felt him arch and moan. John soon felt delicate and nimble fingers creeping under the hems of his jumper and cotton t-shirt layered underneath. Taking the hint, John detached himself from Sherlock’s chest long enough for both garments to be swiftly pulled over his head and thrown onto the floor. He returned to placing small wet kisses on the smooth skin beneath him, but it seemed Sherlock had other plans. He was already playing with the button at the top of his jeans, rather unsuccessfully from his odd angle. Sherlock seemed to grasp the futility of his present actions as an annoyed whine came out of his mouth. John chuckled and shifted to allow his lover to remove his jeans. But fair is fair and they weren't off a full minute before John grabbed at Sherlock’s trousers. Grabbed, and missed. He accidentally brushed against Sherlock’s erection rather forcefully in the scuffle to unclothe his partner.

John paused, wincing, and hoping he hadn't killed the mood. Instead of pain, John heard pleasure in Sherlock’s gasp; he went limp and collapsed onto the couch, moaning John’s name as his eyes closed. “Well,” John mused. “That was an interesting reaction. Maybe I should add that to my mind palace.” 

Sherlock ignored the tease and dreamily added “Cataloging data is always advantageous,” eyes still closed. 

“Oh yeah? Got some about me then?” John teased, pulling at Sherlock’s belt loops, undeterred.

“Mountains,” Sherlock added seductively, opening his eyes and staring seriously at John. John could do nothing as he found himself fixed in Sherlock’s gaze, his hands frozen in place. “Allow me to demonstrate.” Sherlock flipped John onto his back, resting gently on top of him, and then kicked off his trousers effortlessly, without breaking his gaze. He kissed John, warmly and tenderly. He trailed small loving kisses from John’s mouth down his torso and along the sides of his abdomen, drawing long and heavy breaths from John. He kneeled in between John’s legs and began massaging his inner thighs with his thumbs, adding kisses every now and then. Just as Sherlock predicted, John began to lose it. Sherlock held him steady as he writhed and arched, moaning loudly. From there, Sherlock moved back up to John’s pants, now strained from his fully erect dick pressing against the fabric. He pulled them off gently and discarded them. Sherlock gently slid his fingers along John’s shaft and gripped him at the base. He caressed and stroked him a few times before ordering John to “Stay here,” and disappearing into the dark room.

He returned a moment later with a small bottle of lube and a smile. John’s mental faculties had returned for the most part, but still had a dreamy vacant look on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to any who read :)

**Author's Note:**

> (This is the first part, the second should be up in a few days.)


End file.
